fuck it friday saturday -> tagged by @corporatebanana & @rcmclachlan <3
i thought i'd posted about this more than once, but i guess i haven't. this is going to be so out of context, i'm sorry. AU where buck and tommy are at the 118 together. this wip is going in all sorts of directions and i guess we're doing gay chicken now?? enjoy!
Tommy was an asshole and a coward, but he had boundaries. Buckley wasn't a fighter; sparring with him was a mess of limbs and teasing, more often than not. They'd gotten along well today, Tommy had no motive, yet when he saw the opening he took it.
He side stepped at just the right time and took the kid down. Buckley exclaimed, but was too winded to enunciate. Tommy went down with him, easily flipping him from his back to his front, and put the entirety of his weight down on Buckley's body.
”Dude, come o–” He went quiet, as Tommy pressed his face to the back of his head. Tommy's nose was tucked into the short hair, right behind his ear. Tommy wasn't an aggressive person, but he found himself pushing his hips forward in a way Buckley couldn't misinterpret. He held the position for a few long seconds, listening to Buckley breathe against the mat.
Tommy exhaled forcefully. Buckley shivered at the feeling. ”Still wondering?” Tommy breathed against his ear. He pushed himself up, climbed off, and headed for the showers. His fingers tingled. Buckley could report him for that, but the more pressing thought was how perfectly his ass felt in the cradle of Tommy's hips.
He didn't look back, but there was no scramble of sneakers, no sound to indicate that Buckley got up.
The rest of the shift was quiet, not in terms of calls, but Buckley. He wasn't talking to Tommy, or anyone else. He caught Tommy's eyes across the room a few times, but didn't say anything.
At the end of the shift, they handed the house over to B-shift and got ready to head home. Tommy was dragging his feet. The night had been uneventful, so he'd fallen into a deeper sleep than normal. He felt groggy and not particularly fit to drive.
He thought he was the last to leave, but when he walked to his truck, Buckley was leaning against it. When he saw him approach, Buckley crossed his arms. ”What if I am?”
”What?” Tommy grunted.
”Wondering.”
It took a moment for Tommy to figure out what the fuck he was saying. ”I shouldn't have done that.”
”I would've wondered either way.” His face was unusually neutral.
”I have places to be. Move.” Buckley stood his ground. It was impressive how little effort it took for the kid to drive Tommy up the wall. Tommy took a step closer and repeated himself, ”Move.”
”Make me.”
Tommy's duffel slipped off his shoulder, hitting the pavement with a thud. He pressed his hand to the middle of Buckley's chest, pinning him to the door. ”You get off on people being mean to you?”
”What if I do?”
Tommy could feel Buckley's heart pound against his ribcage. He was equally aware of the CCTV in the parking lot. No one checked the tapes, unless they had reason to, but it made his neck prickle.
He curled his fingers in Buckley's shirt, yanking him away from the car. As tall as he was, there was barely any bulk to him. Buckley stumbled to the side, giving Tommy the opening to grab his bag and get into the driver's seat.
Buckley huffed and puffed a bit, but didn't grab the door, to keep it from closing. He had a lot to say, but for once he kept his mouth shut.
Tommy hesitated, but ultimately pulled out of the lot and headed home.
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Evan grabbed his hand and held it to his abdomen. Tommy couldn't feel anything other than Evan's stomach. Maybe Evan could feel something – or thought he could feel something.
”You said you've done this before.”
”I have, but it's you.” He panted for a moment. ”It's you.”
Tommy had no idea what was happening, and he couldn't see Evan's face. Carefully, he moved back, pulling out.
”No! No, no, where're you going?”
Tommy tapped his thigh, ”Turn over.” Evan turned over with such force, the bed shook with it. Tommy took himself in hand and pushed back inside Evan's body. It was instant. Evan relaxed again.
Now that he had the freedom to do so, he wrapped his long legs around Tommy's waist. Tommy leaned over him, pressing their lower bodies to each other. Braced on his arm, Tommy said, ”Talk to me.”
Evan's eyes went a little glassy. ”You're in me.”
Tommy wiggled his hips to demonstrate. ”Yeah.”
Evan wrapped his arms around Tommy's shoulders, pulling him the rest of the way down. He kissed him with open eyes. ”You're inside of me,” he said with wonder.
It didn't clear anything up. Tommy had no idea what was happening in Evan's head. It seemed to have very little to do with what they were actually, physically doing.
”Can you go deeper?”
The answer was no, Tommy only had so much dick to work with, but he gave it a try. He grabbed Evan's thighs, pushing them up and back. It wouldn't do anything in terms of depth, but it felt different.
Evan sighed, hands finding his own abdomen again. ”Fuck.” He licked his lips. ”We need to do this all the time.”
There was a whole conga line of teasing jokes in Tommy's head, but he didn't want to cheapen what Evan was experiencing. Whatever it was, it wasn't an experience Tommy had had himself. He placed his hand on top of both of Evan's, pushing down lightly. ”How's it feel?”
Evan beamed at him. ”Feels right,” he said, and grabbed Tommy by the hips. ”Move.”
Buck returned to the table with water and a cocktail. Tommy was alone. He spotted their new friends in the corner, on the dance floor.
”What was that?”
”What was what?” Buck asked, and sipped his drink. Tommy made eyes at him. ”Someone had to be the first to bring it up.”
”Sure,” Tommy said. ”Did it have to be in public?”
”Am I wrong?”
Tommy sighed, but looked at him indulgently. ”You're not wrong. How can you tell?”
”I have eyes.”
”The fucking mouth on you,” Tommy muttered and gulped down half his water.
Buck scooched his chair closer to Tommy's and put his chin on his shoulder, to get his mouth close to Tommy's ear. ”You fall all over yourself, trying to take care of me, every chance you get. And you get pouty, when you miss your window.”
Tommy cleared his throat. ”Could be a service thing.”
”Mm. But it's not.” Buck moved closer, whispering, ”You wanna be my daddy so bad.”
As much as Tommy was trying to play it cool, he couldn't hide his goosebumps or the way his nipples went tight. ”I don't know what you're talking about.”
Buck pressed his palm to the outside of Tommy's thigh. As long as Tommy didn't shrug him off, he wasn't going anywhere. ”You think about it everytime you pick me up, everytime you take me on a date – you thought about it tonight, when you picked me up at my place. Your mouth said Evan, but your eyes didn't.”
Tommy turned his head, so they could look each other in the eye. He quirked a brow, but his flushed cheeks gave the game away. ”You have a vivid imagination.”
”Not as vivid as yours, I bet,” Buck grinned. ”How do I say it in your head? Do I say thank you, daddy? Or do I cry it while you fuck me?”
Tommy's lips parted, but no words came out.
Buck bit his lip. He glanced at the dance floor, but they were busy with each other, and there was no one else in the vicinity. He met Tommy's eyes again. ”You like it when I cry. I know you do.”
Tommy leaned in and kissed him. ”Can't help it, you look so pretty when you cry,” he said against Buck's lips.
Buck grinned, ”Turned on by snot, are you?”
Playfully, Tommy nipped his lip. ”It's the big fat tears pouring down your face. Makes your eyes look so blue.”
Buck pulled back. ”Oh.”
”Too much?”
”Are we … interrupting?” They both looked up. Their new friends were back from the dance floor.
”Uh, we were,” Tommy looked at Buck. ”We're gonna head home, I think.” Buck nodded. Tommy nodded back. ”Home, yes.”
”But we should totally get together!” Buck said. ”That running club sounds really fun.” He tried to ignore the impatience pouring off of Tommy, as they exchanged phone numbers. He typed his own name wrong three times, because Tommy was digging his fingers into his lower back.
He'd barely handed the phone back, before Tommy was steering him out the door.
”It's OK if you like being older than me.” Buck startled a bit at the volume of his own voice. He hadn't adjusted to being outside yet.
With a firm hand, Tommy led him to the car. ”We can't change how old we are.”
Buck poked him in the chest. ”It's OK to like it.”
”Thank you,” Tommy said mildly.
”I had a girlfriend once, she–” He hadn't said it yet and his face was already getting warm. ”She'd wear frilly socks for me. Little outfits. And she'd do her hair.” Tommy's brows were climbing up his foreheard, so Buck cleared his throat and finished with, ”It's OK to like being older. I do, sometimes.”
”Socks, huh? Thigh highs?” Tommy asked, as he dug out his keys.
”Ankle socks. With lace and bows.”
Tommy looked at him for a second. ”Interesting.”
”Do not say that to me.”
”What? It is!”
”It sounds like an insult when you say it.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. ”You mean DDLG? Since you're not vanilla.”
”No.” Well. Buck tilted his head in thought. ”I mean.” He shook his head. ”No. No, not like that – although.”
”I don't think they make those on my size.”
”This is the other reason why I haven't brought it up – you're an asshole. I know you have another comment in there you're holding on to because you think it's too far.”
”How could you possibly know that?”
”You get this line between your eyebrows when you do,” Buck poked him in the chest. ”Say it.”
Tommy didn't look proud of it when he said, ”For you to be the older man, you'd have to fuck teenagers.”
Buck cackled. ”Oh, my god. That's so much worse than I thought.”
Tommy smiled and ducked his head. ”That's why I did the wrinkle instead.”
Buck wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. ”When you're twenty-five, two years is a lot.”
”Fucked a lot of twenty-five year olds, have you?”
”I'm not answering that.”
Tommy kissed him once more, then glanced around. ”Can we continue this in a private setting?”
Buck held on a little tighter. ”What's worse, strangers knowing you wanna be my daddy, or that your boyfriend likes little girls?”
Tommy's eyes went comically wide. ”We're leaving. Now.”
Buck had to look the other way, to keep from laughing.
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Peter pulled off his glove. He tapped the base with his nail. He expected a sound, but the material was soft. He poked it. It felt like silicone.
That explained the odd placement of the fingers.
It was a sex toy. A fisting toy, to be exact. Probably hand poured in small batches. The sculpting was exquisite.
He wrapped his hand around the gauntlet and squeezed, testing the firmness of the material. It was on the softer side.
”Having fun?”
Peter startled. Wade was standing in the door to the living room, a can of Monster in his hand, smirk on his exposed mouth.
Peter gave the toy another squeeze. ”It's big.”
”I know,” Wade chuckled.
”Do you like that?” He didn't know why he asked. Didn't matter either way. There was no point in him knowing.
”No,” Wade said. ”Too much of a workout. I don't have the patience for it.”
”Why do you have it?”
”I'm a collector, Webs.” Peter looked around the living room, but it was the only item he recognised as a toy. Wade answered his unspoken question, ”I keep them in the bedroom.”
Peter went to the bedroom.
He'd been here before, in the bedroom. As he looked around, at the overflowing shelves, he wondered why he hadn't noticed. Wade's place was overflowing with stuff. Clutter everywhere. The toys were on display, in between plush toys and souvenirs and collectibles.
Wade came up behind him, as close as he could get, without actually making contact. ”I have one rule: I have to use everything at least once, otherwise I can't buy it.”
Peter swallowed. The gauntlet was wide across the knuckles. ”Why?”
”I'd be insatiable, I'd need a bigger apartment.”
Peter huffed and smiled. ”This isn't your only place.”
”Well, no, but it's the principle of the thing.”
He should head home. He was exhausted. If he didn't leave soon, he would round twenty-four hours. It was none of his business what Wade collected. Or did with his body.
”Which one's your favourite?” he heard himself ask.
”To use or to have?”
”Either?”
Wade hummed in thought. He walked to the other side of the room. The floor was covered in stuff, but Wade didn't look down, knowing the free path by heart. He plucked something off a shelf and held it up.
Peter had no idea what he was looking at. Silicone again. It looked like a plant. He couldn't tell what part was supposed to be insertable – if it was insertable at all.
”Her name is Ivy,” Wade said.
Between the size and the amount of colours, it had to be unbelievably expensive. Peter had never bought a sex toy, but he knew the good ones were way out of his price range.
”The colours are custom. I asked them to add glitter to the flowers.”
”Interesting thing to collect,” Peter said.
”I got bored of collecting Smiskis.”
”What's a Smiski?”
Wade removed something from his pocket and threw it at the light switch, plunging the room into darkness.
”They glow in the dark.”
Peter looked around. There were little glowing figures all over. He was standing next to the light switch, but his spidey sense didn't so much as flinch. It was time to go home and pass out.
*
Peter woke up twelve hours later, from a dream about Poison Ivy. He was still half asleep, when he grabbed his phone and looked up artisinal sex toys.
The prices were even higher than he thought they'd be. The creativity was impressive. Peter was no stranger to porn, but the sizes were mildly alarming. He remembered how thick the gauntlet felt in his hand.
Supposedly, Wade had used it. Unless it was a joke.
But there were only so many reasons why someone would have a sex toy.
*
Peter was waiting for Wade in one of their usual meeting spots. He heard Wade a mile away. He was huffing and puffing, as he climbed up the fire escape.
”Three-hundred bucks.”
Wade's grin was obvious through the mask. ”Have you been thinking about it?”
”A lot of money for a shelf trinket.”
”Worth every penny,” he grunted as he cleared the top rung.
”Is it the biggest one you have?”
”Spidey. Didn't know you had it in you.”
”Is it?”
”I haven't measured, but I guess Ivy could be bigger, you know, if you,” he held his hands, like he was holding a bouquet, ”gathered her together.”
Peter sat on the edge, facing Wade. ”Does it actually feel good?”
”Anal?”
Peter laughed. ”The size. I know what anal feels like.”
”Do you now?” Wade cocked a hip. ”Just when I think I've figured you out.” He wagged his finger at him.
”Seems like a whole lot of hassle with no pay off.”
”You need to hit up a size queen for that kind of intel – which I am not.”
”Mm. Bragging rights?”
”Oh, hell yeah. Absolutely.”
Peter had a thought. ”Is it a healing factor thing?”
Wade plopped down beside him. ”No, sir. I don't break my insides for fun. Inside stuff hurts way more than outside stuff.”
”So you're into people with … appendages?” He hated it before the words had even left his mouth.
Wade shrugged. ”I'm into whatever. You?”
”Same, I think.”
Wade bumped their shoulders. ”Sounds like I'm on the table.”
”That's not how that saying goes.”
”What saying?”
Peter rolled his eyes and got to his feet. ”You coming?” he said and jumped off the ledge.
”That's cheating!” Wade shrieked and did a swan dive after him.
Peter doubled back, to catch Wade before he hit the ground.
*For the uninitiated, allow me to introduce to you, Sir Gawain by Twilight Meadow Creations
was tagged ages ago for wip wednesday by @sierranovembr & @capitalnineteen <3
today is monday
Buck smiled at him. ”Tommy's a daddy,” he said. Tommy choked on his beer and started coughing. Buck patted him on the back. ”It's really sweet,” he said, as if Tommy wasn't actively dying.
”A daddy? Not your daddy?”
Buck shrugged. ”We haven't talked about it. He doesn't want to push me into stuff.”
Tommy looked like he had a lot to say, but he couldn't get it out through the alcohol in his throat. Buck thumbed away a tear from his cheek.
”He thinks I'm vanilla, so he doesn't really share that with me.”
”Evan,” Tommy said, through watery eyes.
Their companions looked intrigued. ”Vanilla? Really?”
Flattered, Buck felt his cheeks heat up. He looked at Tommy, who wasn't breathing quite right yet. ”I'm not,” he said, addressing both the table and Tommy. ”But he doesn't want to seem predatory.” He turned and winked at the others. ”He's a little older than me.”
”Seven years is a lot,” Tommy coughed.
”It can be,” Buck smiled at him. ”Doesn't have to be.”
Tommy clearly wasn't comfortable talking about this, not infront of strangers. Buck pointed to his beer, ”Want another one?”
”Water, please.”
”You've got it,” Buck smiled and kissed his cheek.
i write motionless in white rpf sometimes, and there's this one wip i keep coming back to. i remember it every couple of months, open it, read it, fall in love with it all over again, and then never finish it
It was a coffee shop they both liked. Really, it was only a matter of time before they ran into each other. They were standing infront of the accoutrements.
”Hi, daddy,” Buck said, sad little smile on his face, and popped the lid off his drink.
Tommy gave him a sad little smile in return. ”Hi, baby.”
”How're you?”
”Pretty shit. You?”
”Pretty shit,” Buck echoed. He found himself thumbing a tear out of his eye, and sniffing to clear his nose. He tried to get the lid to snap into place, but it wouldn't. Now he was frustrated, too.
Tommy bumped his shoulder, took the cup and lid from him, snapping it on easily. ”You OK?”
”No.” Buck took the cup back. ”I called you daddy and made myself sad.” Tommy already knew he was weepy about it, so he wasn't subtle the next time he wiped his eyes. ”Why'd you call me baby? That's just mean.”
”Right,” Tommy said, with that dumb expression Buck could tell was on his face, just by the sound of his voice. ”Because you're the only one with feelings.”
”Hey, fuck you.”
There it was, the dumb expression – and the eyebrows. ”Sorry, I forgot. Daddy doesn't have feelings.”
Buck exhaled, as the fight went out of him. Yeah, that was fair. ”Do you need to be anywhere?”
Tommy took a moment to respond.
”No.”
Silently, Buck led them outside. All the tables were occupied, so he took them around the corner, to a patch of grass that was technically considered a park. They sat on a bench, respectable distance apart.
Buck turned the cup in his hand and carelly pushed the sleeve down enough to move. The coffee was still too hot to go without, but it was something to focus on. He spun the sleeve around the cup a couple of times, before saying, ”Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you appreciate flowery language.”
”Depends on the context.”
Buck inhaled, exhaled. Anger would get them nowhere. ”I need to be frank with you, to avoid misunderstandings, yes?”
Tommy hadn't touched his coffee either. ”I have a vivid imagination,” he said, noncommittal.
”Right. This is me doing that.” He took a second to look in the general direction of Tommy's face, instead of his knee. ”I have feelings for you. I fell hard and I fell fast. I need you to know that.”
A muscle ticked in Tommy's jaw. ”OK.”
”You said a lot of hurtful things, but that didn't change how I feel. And I know I hurt you, too.” Tommy looked up. ”I flirted with someone else on our anniversary. I told you a lot of things, without giving you the context. I didn't tell you how I feel, when I should have.”
”OK,” Tommy said.
It took everything in him, to not move closer. ”I didn't give you space to be scared. I put you in a position where you felt like you couldn't be, and I'm sorry I did that.”
”Evan–”
”No, I want you to hear this,” Buck held up his hand. ”I think I scared you. I'm not sure when or why, but looking back, I think I did things that rattled you, and I didn't give you space to talk about those things. Because we were focused on me.”
”That's– That's not entirely true.”
”Correct me, then,” Buck said. ”Because every person I've spoken to about you, focused on me, too. About it being my first time. I've been in more relationships than you, haven't I?”
”I don't see the relevance, but yes, you have.”
Tommy's hand was resting on his thigh and the temptation was too great. Buck reached out and curled his fingers around it. ”I should've treated you like a partner and not like you were this unflappable guy, who's got it all worked out.”
”Maybe I wanted you to think that I was.”
”At first, sure,” Buck said. ”But then you get the flu, or you're hungover, and you puke infront of each other, and you treat each other as human.”
”I don't really get sick.”
”I hang out with a lot of toddlers.”
Tommy snorted and squeezed his hand. ”Alright, what's your point?”
”I want my daddy back, and I want him to tell me when he gets scared.”
”What if I'm seeing someone?”
He knew Tommy was probably making a terrible joke, but jealousy burned in his gut. ”I will fight him. Physically. But I don't think you would've called me baby, if you did. Or I hope you wouldn't.”
”I only have one baby at a time.” It was such a non answer, and the tone of his voice was joking, but Tommy's face looked grave. He looked at Buck for a beat, then lowered his eyes. ”What if I'm scared all the time?”
”Then I want to know that.” Buck moved closer to him on the bench. ”I want to know you. That's all I want.”
”And if it doesn't go away? The fear.”
”Then it doesn't.”
Tommy rotated the cup in his hands. ”You'd be OK with that? Long term?”
”I would.” Buck put his hand on top of Tommy's, to make the fidgeting stop. Tommy switched his cup to the other hand, so he could curl his fingers around Buck's. ”I like it messy,” Buck said. It was a joke, but he didn't get the tone quite right.
”You don't know the kind of mess I leave behind.”
”That's what makes it exciting.”
Tommy smiled a little. ”You think so?”
”You've seen the kind of stuff I get up to. You should return the favour.”
”It won't be as exciting as yours.” He tried to bite back a grin, but it didn't go very well, ”I don't get cursed.”
Buck had no qualms about grinning. He leaned into him, ”There's a first time for everything.”
”Don't put that out there.”
Buck muffled his laughter into Tommy's shoulder. ”Hey, daddy?”
Thinking about them post reunion, right in that sweet spot where things are finally feeling solid again, and they feel safe enough to be playful.
Cuddled up in bed, Buck asks Tommy, "Why is Grindr like that?" and Tommy laughs himself sick.
And then they go through Buck's folder of Grindr screenshots. Even though things were up in the air for a while, Buck thought about him, everytime he got a crazy message on there, and he's been waiting with bated breath to show him.
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They had been bickering like they always were. Buck was constantly cycling through food trends. The current one, was greek yoghurt with various different toppings, but it was a particular brand of greek yoghurt, one they didn't have at their usual store. Tommy was complaining about all the frozen foods on their list and how going to the other store would add at least thirty minutes, so they would have to get the frozen items at the other store, but Tommy didn't go to that store, so he would have to find replacements, which would add god knows how much extra time.
So, Tommy lost his temper and called Buck a princess for wanting the fancy yoghurt, and Buck's brain went offline for a good couple of seconds.
Buck was used to big boy and big guy and all these variations of big and strong – but princess? It was so out of left field, and yet. And yet.
In college, Buck dated a girl who got off on making him do the most depraved things she could think of, because he was such a nice looking boy. A pretty boy. Buck didn't really get it. She didn't ask for anything Buck considered wild. She was in the process of deconstructing, which Buck didn't know what meant at the time. He found out a few years later, and the whole thing made more sense, but he had gotten off on her calling him a good guy, with his head between her legs.
The princess thing wasn't that. For one, Tommy wasn't a college girl in the process of deconstructing her faith. No, Tommy meant it as an insult. A lighthearted one, but it set Buck's whole body on fire.
Buck wasn't easily embarrassed, but this? This curdled in his stomach upon impact. He backed down on the spot, and found the next best thing in the yoghurt aisle. He could tell Tommy felt bad, but he couldn't in good faith say it was OK. Buck had no idea what this reaction meant.
Tommy apologised while they packed the car and Buck said it was fine. Unfortunately, Buck had a fantastic boyfriend who could see straight through him, and knew something was up.
Buck waited until they were buckled in and ready to fight their way out of the parking lot.
”M-maybe I am a bit of a princess.”
Tommy's eyes were on him instantly. Buck could feel himself do that thing Tommy kept begging him to stop doing. The thing with the eyelashes and the big wet eyes.
Instead of telling him to put his eyes away, Tommy said, ”Oh.”
The last time Tommy said oh, Buck had to shower at home for a week. Again, this wasn't that, but when Buck's insulated lunchbox bag thing broke, Tommy somehow managed to find an adult sized replacement, in pink, with princess on the side.
It was a thing, but also not a thing, and certainly not something they talked about.
i don't have a Main Project at the moment, so i picked the longest one i currently have, which is punk buck & tattoo artist tommy
-> fanfic or original? title?
fanfic! title is (currently) "so take me back, back to better days". thought it was fitting to name it after the concept of looking back on the old days, that only seem good in comparison, because the present sucks in a different way, but nostalgia and distance makes it look better than it was. after the song "take me back" by story of the year.
-> first two sentences of your current project
The shop was dead. The only person in sight, was lying on one of the padded tables, phone in hand.
-> most recently written sentence of your current project
His belt clattered against the edge of the booth. Tommy laughed.
”Should've known you were a bondage guy.”
”For your information, I don't like being restrained.”
”Claustrophobic?”
”Trust issues,” Buck grinned.
-> favourite line(s) in your current project
Tommy's eyes dipped down, then back up. ”You were smiling.”
”Y-you kissed me because I was smiling?”
-> how close is your project to the end?
not close :) i'm not a linear writer, so it's missing a lot of filler and transitions and pacing. current word count is 11k and it needs a lot more than that.
i'm easy to convince, so there will be more leather daddy! (eventually) and to be clear, tommy said no come on the jacket, he didn't say he wouldn't fuck buck in the jacket
snippet/preview/wip/etc:
Buck panted into the sheets.
”What did you promise?” Tommy asked, slightly breathless. ”Remind me.”
”Don't– Don't get come on the leather.”
Tommy squeezed the sides of his waist. ”Good boy.”
It felt crazy. Buck felt crazy. The leather jacket was heavy and stiffling against his bare skin. For some reason his arms didn't work when he wore it. He wanted to stay on all fours, like Tommy asked him to, but his elbows buckled the moment Tommy flipped him onto his front.
The pace was leisurely by Tommy's standards, but Buck was barely holding on. Tommy's hip bones slamming against his ass felt bruising. Tommy's hands were up under the jacket, holding on to Buck's sweaty skin. The silky lining stuck to him like a second skin, but it was too loose to hold the weight of the jacket in place. The downward slope of his back put all the weight on the collar, pressing it against the back of his neck.
His hip joints were sore. His knees kept slipping out from under him. Tommy put him back into place with such ease, he went a little cross eyed. The zipper on the sleeve of the jacket caught the light, so that was where he tried to put his focus. Shortly after they met, Buck had found a little charm during an outing with Maddie. It was probably meant for a charm bracelet, but Buck had put it on Tommy's jacket. He loved the little jangly sound it made, when it bounced around with the zipper pull.
Tommy grunted. Buck's arms shot out infront of him, to brace against the headboard. The pillows were scattered from earlier and he was not in the mood for a concussion. Tommy curled over him, one hand on the mattress, holding himself up, the other curled around Buck's stomach. The last handful of thrusts were rough. Tommy had only been gentle, until he knew Buck could handle it.
Tommy's hand came up to hook on his shoulder, pulling Buck's body into him, countering the thrusts of his hips.
The way Tommy grunted when he came was the hottest thing Buck had ever heard. It was quiet and understated and so fucking manly, Buck could hardly stand it.
Tommy panted in his ear, taking a moment to catch his breath. He chuckled and patted Buck on the thigh, grabbed him by the leg, and flipped him over. Buck was going to come the second Tommy said it was OK.
Buck looked at him in all his glory. His whole body was flushed and glistening, broad chest heaving. He wiped sweat off his face with his forearms and grabbed the condom.
Buck watched him do it, slowly, like Buck wasn't fit to bursting right infront of him. Tommy knotted and tossed the condom across the room, no doubt hitting the trash perfectly.
”What did I say?”
”No come on the jacket,” he breathed.
”Now, how do we solve that?”
There was not a single thought in his head. ”Tommy,” he whined. He couldn't hide his shaking legs, Tommy knew exactly where he had him.
Tommy tapped his inner thighs. Buck nearly wet himself.
”You think my mouth would work?”
”Tommy, please,” he keened.
Tommy was already in afterglow mode, and not in a hurry. He put his hands on Buck's inner thighs, stroking lightly. His hands felt freezing cold on Buck's overheated skin.
He meant to hold still, he really did, but the sheer proximity had Buck's legs and lower body curl upward. He had no idea what he was trying to do. He wasn't dumb enough to touch himself, but he wasn't sure he could handle Tommy touching him either, if he wasn't allowed to come.
”Hey now,” Tommy said, and nudged his legs back down. ”None of that.”
Buck's whole body was trembling. He couldn't get his abs to relax enough to straighten out, the way Tommy was urging him to. He hid under his arms. The leather killed the light. The surface was soft and smelled like Tommy. The zipper along the forearm was open, and jangled with the movement.
He felt the bed shift and the sheet pull under his body. ”No,” he said. ”Tommy, please, no.” He could feel him breathe against his stomach. Tommy hadn't told him it was OK yet.
Tommy pushed the sides of the jacket open, away from Buck's body. The open air felt cold. His skin pebbled and went tight. Tommy followed the goosebumps with his hands. ”Hold still.”
”I'm trying.” His whole body shook, as he tried to keep breathing, but nothing did what it was supposed to. It didn't feel like he could control anything.
Tommy's hands moved to the sides of his waist. He pressed his face to Buck's upper stomach, just below the ribs, and Buck cried out.
”No, please, no, I can't hold it, please, Tommy, please.” He could have pushed Tommy away, or rolled over, or done something to get away, but he didn't. ”Please.”
Tommy turned his head, pressing the edge of his stubbled jaw into Buck's skin, and moved down, scorching Buck's stomach on the way down.
The second Tommy had flipped him over, precome started pooling on his stomach. By now, it was mixed with his sweat, and probably some of Tommy's, too. Tommy dragged his face through it and said,
”When you're ready.”
It wasn't pretty, it's wasn't even nice. Buck came the moment Tommy swallowed him down. It hurt. He did everything he could to lie still, and not chase the suction of Tommy's mouth.
He was so relieved he could cry – he did cry. In big heaving sobs, as his whole body went lax. One moment, it was pitch black, the next, Tommy pushed his arms off his face, and kissed his wet cheeks.
”My baby,” he said softly.
All Buck could do, was wrap his floppy arms around Tommy's neck and hold on.
Remember when I posted about leather daddy Tommy? Twice?
full grain
Explicit — 5,486 words
”New to the lifestyle?” Tommy asked, and pushed a glass into his hands. ”You have that look about you.”
He had to bite his tongue, before his mouth had the chance to ask if he looked gay. ”What– What lifestyle is that?”
Tommy's eyes were twinkling. ”You're in a leather bar, kid.”
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Another Bucktommy thought I had last night, because can't stop, won't stop;
You know my pervasive head canon that I won't shut up about, the one where Tommy bought an engagement ring after the hookup, because he knew that if he were ever lucky enough to see Evan again and get yet another chance, he'd make it count? He wouldn't let Evan go?
Well, we all know how their next meeting ended up going...
But let's say that now, almost a year and a half later, Tommy is dating again. He has a boyfriend, and he's nice, but they've only been together for a few months and it's still pretty casual. Tommy knows Matt isn't the one, but that's fine. He's pretty sure they're on the same page..
...until the day that Matt comes across the engagement ring hidden in Tommy's sock drawer. He makes what seems like the most logical conclusion at the time, and calls Tommy in a hurry, voice full of excitement, letting him know that yes, he would absolutely love to marry him.
And Tommy...Tommy is too damn stunned to correct him. He never wanted to hurt Matt, and Matt never deserved any of this.
Now Tommy has to figure out a way to tell him that not only was the ring intended for someone else all together, someone he never truly got over, but also that he never really saw them taking that step at all.
And to make everything worse, the grapevine and all its gossip finds Buck, letting him know of Tommy's "engagement."
”I forgot why I came over here. Maybe if I go back,” he muttered to himself and went back to where he came from. Where did he come from? Maybe the locker room. He patted his pockets, but there was nothing weird in them and they weren't empty.
He was breathing weird.
Fresh air. He should go outside and get some air.
He turned on his heel and went further into the building, toward the stairs.
He pushed the door to the roof open and stumbled toward the edge. It was too hot to stand around in the sun, in the dark fabric of his uniform. The sun was bright and blinding. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but he couldn't see the screen. He fumbled the brightness up.
He found his thread with Tommy and sent off a,
congratulations
It felt like the right thing to do. All this time, he'd thought it was open ended. That there was still a possibility there.
The door was closed now. Tommy was marrying someone else.
Tommy found someone else.
Buck felt stupid more than anything. Why did he think it would work out? How childish it was to think Tommy was waiting. Why would he? Tommy had given him a chance to start over and he'd fucked it up in less than twelve hours.
Why would anyone wait around for someone like that? It wasn't like all those stupid movies Tommy was always quoting. Things didn't miraculously work out, just because you wanted it enough. There was no such thing as being meant to be.
His phone went off in his hand. He unlocked the screen. There was no new message, but Tommy had reacted to his message with a thumbs up.
Buck's hands went cold. Tommy had never reacted to a message ever – let alone with a thumbs up.
Buck called him.
”Evan – ”
”Are you OK?”
”What?”
”Is this a hostage situation? Or DV?”
” … I'm not sure I understand?”
”You reacted with a thumbs up.”
Tommy sighed. ”Evan, it's … I'm fine.”
”Do you even know where the thumbs up emoji is in the menu? You have never sent me an emoji that made sense, in any context, ever. What's going on?”
Tommy was quiet in a deeply ominous way.
”Can we meet? I can't have a fucking– A papertrail.”
Buck's eyebrows attempted to escape his face. If Tommy's paranoia had kicked in, something was deeply, deeply wrong.
”I'm four hours into my shift. And so are you.”
Tommy sighed again. ”Obviously, it can't be right now. And we can't be seen together, so I can't come meet you.”
”Hold on, hold on – we can't be seen together? Tommy, what the fuck.” Tommy made a small, distressed sound that did nothing to soothe either one of them. ”Tommy. My heart is about to fall out of my ass, I need you to tell me you're safe.”
”I am safe. It's just,” he took a breath. ”I don't know how to get out of this.”
”Get out of what? Your engagement?”
”My situation.”
”Can I be seen at Harbor?”
”What? Why?”
”If I burst into tears, I'm pretty sure Chim will send me home, so he doesn't have to fix it. Can I come to you?”
”Fuck. Shit. Let me get back to you. Gimme, like, ten minutes.”
The phone went silent in his hand. Ten minutes. He could have so many panic attacks in ten minutes. His heart was racing, his fingers were tingling. Buck put the phone in his pocket and shook out his hands. Ten minutes.
It was more like five, when his phone rang. ”Oh, thank fuck.” He held the device to his ear, ”Tommy?”
”Remember that gastropub we went to? It was a converted warehouse.”
”The one the fire marshal shut down? What about it?”
”Meet me there? I've got an hour.”
*
Buck thundered down the stairs, slamming every door on the way. Everyone eyed him as he came into the loft.
”It's OK, I'm OK.” He looked at the kitchen. ”C-shift covered groceries, right? You think they bought flour?”
Chimney came up to him. ”Buck. Hey. Hey. Buck. Hi. Listen, how about you take the day off?”
”Why would I do that?” he sniffled and wiped at his eyes. It was sweat, but Chimney didn't need to know that.
Chimney straightened up and put his hands on his hips. ”Firefighter Buckley, I think it's best if I send you home.”
”Chim – ”
He held up his hand. ”Take the day off, do something nice for yourself. Please.”
Buck pushed out his bottom lip and hunched his shoulders. ”M-maybe that would be best. If you're sure?”
”Get out of here, Buck, we've got it.”
He rubbed his eyes a final time. ”Thank you.” He didn't run, but it was a near thing. He changed out of his uniform and packed his bag as fast as he could, and made his way to the warehouse.
He hardly recognised it, when he made it to the address. He spotted Tommy's truck and pulled up behind it. Everything was burnt down.
”Oh, wow. When did that happen?” he asked, as he tumbled out of his car.
”Two weeks ago.”
”You look like shit.”
”So do you.” Tommy huffed. ”No, you don't, you look great. Thanks for meeting me.”
”What's going on?” Buck asked.
Tommy opened and closed his mouth. He'd looked more cheerful when he'd broken up with Buck. ”I, uhm,” he swallowed. ”I think I just realised you have to know, in order to help.”
Buck could do this. He could help with whatever situation this was. He could be encouraging. He could.
”Whatever it is, I won't judge you.”
Tommy nodded. ”I think you should.”
”Right. OK. I will judge you a proportionate amount. Whatever you need.”
”Fuck,” Tommy muttered and ran his fingers through his hair. It was already standing up, so he must've done it a few times already. ”I'm engaged.”
”Alright. And?”
”I didn't propose.”
Buck paused his encouraging nods to frown. ”Right, OK, so your fiancé did.”
”He also did not propose.”
”I'm pretty sure someone needs to propose.”
Tommy laughed, ”You'd think so.”
”What happened?”
”He found a ring in my dresser. A ring I bought for you.”
Buck was pretty sure his heart stopped. He definitely stopped breathing. Tommy bought him a ring. When the fuck did Tommy buy him a ring? ”He thought it was for him.”
”And I didn't correct him.”
”Of course you didn't.” Tommy made a face, but didn't dispute it. ”How long ago was this?”
”Three weeks.”
Buck took a deep breath. ”That's not great.”
”I've had heart palpitations for three weeks.”
Buck's ears were ringing a little bit, but it was a pretty straight forward problem, even if his emotional involvement made it a hell of a lot more complicated. ”How can I help?”
”I don't know,” Tommy sighed and bent over, clutching his knees. Tommy was not this animated, unless sports were involved. It was stressful as hell.
”I need more information. Why can't we be seen together?”
”I don't know, I'm panicking.”
”I can see that. Fuck. We're supposed to be good in a crisis. What if we … What if you tell him you changed your mind? How long have you been together?”
”Uh. Two months? Three?”
”That is … That is very fast. Which could work in your favour! Tell him you thought you wanted it, but now that you're doing it, it's too fast.”
Tommy checked his watch and stood back up. ”Talking to him is the issue. He's excited.”
”Tommy. You cannot marry someone because they want to.”
”I met his parents over Zoom.”
Buck had a feeling they were only scraping the surface. ”You told him yours were dead, didn't you?”
”Obviously.”
Buck sighed, but he couldn't fault Tommy for that. ”If your dad ever steps foot in this fucking town, I'm killing him, so he might as well be.”
”Thanks.”
”You need to head back?” Buck asked, after Tommy checked his watch again.
”I was only granted time enough for a personal errand.”
”I've got the day off, so I've got time. Listen, I'll think of something. Worst case scenario, I speak to him myself, yeah?”
”I don't want that.”
”Neither do I, but it's an option. What's his name?”
”Matthew.”
Buck shivered. ”Ew.”
Tommy laughed, a little hysterical. ”You know nothing about him.”
”I don't need to know him to hate him. Get back to Harbor, I'll figure something out. I'll call you, so maybe change my name in your phone.”
”Already did.”
”What did you change– No. No, I don't need to know. Go.”
*
Buck went home. He did two circuits with the gym equipment in his backyard, but it did little to change anything. His heart was still racing, his ears were still ringing.
He was trying to keep his own feelings at bay, to help Tommy, but it was really fucking hard. So far, his only suggestion for a solution, was come over.
As it closed in on Tommy getting off work, Buck still didn't know what to do. He felt bad having offered a solution and then not coming up with anything. The only thing he had left to offer, was his support. He pulled up a map on his phone and started looking for places they could meet.
*
It wasn't exactly clandestine, but hopefully Matthew wouldn't think to come looking for his fiancé at a park with a one star rating.
Tommy didn't look any better. He sunk onto the bench beside, with a heavy sigh. He still had his phone in his hand, so Buck asked,
”What did you change my name to?”
”Eva.”
”You deleted one letter?”
”And two emojis.”
”You didn't delete those before? How the fuck did Matthew think you wanted to marry him?”
”Listen, the issue is Matthew is a perfectly nice guy and I can't devastate him, like I usually do. I can't keep doing that to people. He needs to feel like walking away is the better, more preferable option.”
”Right,” Buck said mildly. He knew he was being petty, but he couldn't not ask, ”Does the ring fit?”
”No. Matt has dainty fingers.”
”Would it fit me?”
”Yes. I measured.”
”What? How? When?”
”You have butcher's twine in your kitchen. I did it while you slept.”
”I moved,” Buck said. ”I still have the twine, but it's a different kitchen. Not that that matters.”
”You got your own place? Thank fuck.”
”I cannot keep having this conversation – I was subletting. It was my house.”
”Christopher's height is etched into the doorframe.”
”Give me your phone,” he held out his hand. ”I'm calling Matthew.”
They glared at each other for a moment, before scoffing in tandem and letting it lie.
”Thank you for doing this,” Tommy said. ”You didn't have to.”
”If the ring was for me, I think I'm partially to blame.”
”No, you're not.”
Buck kicked him in the shin. ”Let me help.”
Tommy sat up straight and crossed his arms, turned slightly toward Buck.
”What if I tell him I've been cheating since the start? That we were never exclusive?”
Buck made face. ”That's pretty shitty.”
”My reputation is already shit, there's nothing to salvage.”
”Your reputation is fine.”
”Oh, I'm sure Abby only had nice things to say about me.”
Buck wrinkled his nose. ”Point taken.”
”I could kill myself.”
Buck sighed deeply. ”Killing yourself is not a solution.”
”I think it is.”
”Shut up.”
They spent a long time, coming up with increasingly more elaborate schemes. Buck was willing to do any of them, if Tommy asked, but it was becoming clear that they weren't actually looking for a solution, they were just making them up for the sake of talking.
It was closing in on dinner time, when Buck asked, ”You're gonna tell him, aren't you?”
”Yeah,” Tommy nodded. He'd been quiet for a while now. ”Yeah, I am. I just needed to freak out first.”
”Want me to come with you?”
”I do, but I don't think you should.”
Buck watched him get out his phone and text Matthew. They went back and forth a couple of times, before Tommy exhaled and put the phone in his pocket.
”When's it happening?”
”Now. I need to head out.” He checked his watch.
They hugged, before Tommy left. Buck squeezed him as hard as he could, but didn't say anything. He didn't say good luck, didn't tell him it was for the best.
*
Buck didn't know how long it took to break off an engagement. For Matthew's sake, hopefully it took a little longer, so he could get closure.
Buck spent a few agonisingly long minutes imagining what kind of man Matthew was. What kind of man found a ring after two months of dating and thought it was exciting, instead of terrifying. A very optimistic one, for sure.
Maybe it was a shitty thing to do, he couldn't tell anymore, but he sent his new address to Tommy, along with,
if you want to talk
Buck went through the motions of making and eating dinner, and texting back some of the colleagues who had attempted to check in during the day.
He was hoping, but not expecting to hear from Tommy.
Buck had suds up to his elbows, when the doorbell rang. He wiped down in a hurry, pushed things onto the drying rack, and went to answer the door.
Tommy looked about the same, but tired.
”Come in,” Buck stepped aside.
They stood in the living room for a beat. Buck with a dish towel, Tommy with his hands in his pockets.
”How did it go?”
”I have no idea,” Tommy smiled.
”Can I see it?”
Tommy pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. It didn't look special. It was just a silver band. Buck turned it over a couple of times, before the inside caught his attention.
It was engraved.
Are you free Saturday?
”You can keep it, if you want. Put it in a trinket box or something.”
”You're not proposing?”
”No,” Tommy shook his head. ”Clearly, that is not on the table for me, message received, loud and clear, never again.”
”Are you free Saturday?”
”Yeah, I thought … I thought it was sweet, I don't know.”
”No, I'm asking – are you free Saturday?”
”I am,” he said, before it dawned on him. ”Oh. Oh, you're asking.”
Buck looked at him for an extended moment. ”Now that the competition is out of the way.”
Main pairing is Steve/Bucky, with a plethora of side pairings. In this current moment, the word count is 360k. Based on what still needs to be added, I expect the final count to surpass 400k.
We meet Steve in prison, where he is doing time for aggravated assault. He is the frontman of a heavy metal band. He's been on the verge of a mental health crisis for a long time. Shortly after he gets out of prison, he can't run from it anymore. Steve is sober for the first time in his life and sobriety recontextualises everything. His lifes, his relationships, his career.
There are no flashbacks, but the story is told retroactively. As Steve attempts to deal with his mental health, he thinks about everything that brought him here. He tries to come to terms with the fact that he can't make music or tour, until he gets better. The bandmates that he has spent his entire adult life with, and thinks of as his best friends, suddenly feel like strangers, and he questions those relationships. Questions why they still want to be friends, when he is the reason they can't get back to work.
Bucky hasn't been a part of his life in a long time. They founded the band together, back in high school, and Bucky was with them for years, but right before the band really took off, Bucky dropped off the face of the planet, leaving the rest of them reeling. Steve is the one who made the decision for them to keep going without him.
By complete accident, they run into each other at an industry event. Steve is already struggling and Bucky's presence only makes it worse, but it's been eight years since they saw each other. Steve thought he died. He can't walk away from the opportunity to have Bucky in his life again.
Ultimately, the story is about Steve coming to terms with who he is, and what he wants, and reconnecting with the people in his life. And that dealing with mental illness fucking sucks, but it doesn't have to be the end. Steve doesn't recover within the confines of the story, but he does get better. I think that's the most important part of the story for me; that Steve isn't healed at the end.
The worldbuilding is what I'm the most proud of. How all the relationships tie into each other and affect each other. I wanted it to feel like the comics, in the sense that everyone knows everyone. The band has existed for twenty-plus years, and the fic only covers about two or three of those years, but the entire history of the band is covered through conversations and Steve's memories, in what I think is a pretty clever way.
Working on this story is pretty much the thing that's been keeping me afloat for the last four or so years. It's been really meaningful to me to write about these people overcoming bad circumstances and things working out in the end. Even when it's difficult, even when it's not pretty or aspirational.
All the music stuff is purely self indulgent. My introduction to fandom was through bandom, so it's just one long love letter to all the music I grew up with, and all the useless knowledge I've picked up along the way.
I can't begin to articulate what this project has done for me as a writer. I wouldn't be the writer I am today, if I hadn't done this. As the word count has climbed, there have been so many times where I've thought to myself I didn't have the skills to finish it. That this project is too big for me to handle. But I've grown alongside it and I never thought that would happen. I thought the longest thing I'd ever write was 50k, if I got lucky. The project isn't done yet, but I've been dreaming about what it will feel like when it's published. The thought of having a project of this scale on my AO3 is everything I've dreamed of, since I started writing fic. The finish line still feels impossibly far away, but I can't wait to prove to myself that this is something I can do.
